Jeremy froze, his mind racing. Kittens? He hadn’t expected that. The faint mews were barely audible over the wind, yet unmistakable. His chest tightened—not from fear, but from the knowledge that even a brush with them could send him into a dangerous allergic reaction. Sneezing, hives, maybe even worse.
He clenched his fists, trying to calm himself. I can’t just leave them out here in this storm… His heart ached at the thought of the tiny creatures freezing. The snow was falling heavier now, coating the ground in a slippery white blanket, and the wind was sharp enough to sting exposed skin.
Jeremy glanced down at the dog, who sat protectively over the kittens, eyes darting between him and the small, helpless bundle. There was trust there—hesitant, fragile trust—but also a plea: help them.
He exhaled shakily, weighing his options. He couldn’t risk direct contact without protection. Not yet. Not bare-handed. He had to be clever, careful. He sprinted back inside and rummaged through the garage, searching for anything that could act as a barrier.
Old blankets, a laundry basket, a pair of thick gardening gloves—everything he could use to handle the kittens safely without triggering his allergies. He returned to the yard, heart pounding, carrying the makeshift tools.
“Alright,” he whispered, more to himself than the dog, “we’ll get you and them inside… safely.”
The dog watched him cautiously as he placed the laundry basket nearby, lined with blankets. Jeremy gently nudged it closer to the kittens with a broom handle, trying not to startle them. The tiny creatures stirred, and the dog let out a soft whine, then relaxed slightly, sensing his intentions.
Jeremy held his breath. One careful step at a time…